


Waugh's Anatomy

by LeakingLlama



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Appendicitis, Butt Plugs, Dom/sub Undertones, Eliot Waugh in lingerie, Emergency Medical Technicians, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Julia Wicker is a Good Friend, M/M, Quentin is still cute, Stripping, Telekinesis, queliot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:42:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25394062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeakingLlama/pseuds/LeakingLlama
Summary: Eliot tells the tale of how his first strip tease ended with an appendectomy.  Though it doesn't help him escape from the Happy Place, it does remind Eliot that there are some people we are destined to meet, and those people are worth trying for.
Relationships: Eliot Waugh/Original Male Character(s), Quentin Coldwater & Julia Wicker, Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh
Comments: 5
Kudos: 29
Collections: Eliot Waugh's Spectacular Summer of Shame





	Waugh's Anatomy

**Author's Note:**

> Written for TM Spectacular Summer of Shame! Note the mature rating - not explicit, but sex is alluded to and body parts are mentioned. See end for more notes on specific content warnings.

“Ok, well, it wasn’t that one,” Eliot panted as he and Charlton ran into the cottage and slammed the door behind them. The two glanced at each other to make sure no one was injured, then walked over to the large chalkboard and crossed another item off of the list of potential traumatic memories that would (hopefully) lead to the way _out_.

Charlton furrowed his brow. “I thought certainly that would have been the one. I can’t imagine anything more traumatic than that…”

“Ohhhh, Charlton, Charlton…we’re just getting started. That was…possibly the least traumatic of the ‘Daddy issues and dicks’ subcategory of my life’s failures and traumas.”

Charlton’s eyes widened. He looked a little shaky already.

“Ok,” Eliot continued, “next up…well, these two…actually go together so…”

“Wait. What?” Charlton gave him a questioning look. “How can those possibly go together…”

“Well…it’s complicated…but…one kind of led to the other…” Eliot trailed off, trying to find the words.

Charlton looked thoughtfully at the floor. “That is so fuck.”

Eliot tried to suppress a smile and ignore the feeling of endearment that had cropped up in his chest as he closed his eyes and said gently, “Um, not…not quite, Charlton. You’re getting closer, though.”

Charlton nodded and Eliot huffed out a chuckle as he could see Charlton mentally adding to his _list-of-ways-you-can’t-use-the-word-fuck_.

Eliot shook his head and got back to business. “Ok, well, no use putting off the inevitable. Let’s…get to it…”

The pair opened the door and stepped into a small New York apartment. They stood against the wall and observed as a younger, 19-year-old Eliot appeared…

* * *

* * *

Eliot looked at his phone nervously as he walked quickly into the kitchen. He was relieved there hadn’t been a text canceling his plans for tonight, but he grew even more anxious as he realized what time it was. He had about an hour left before his guest arrived, and he still needed to finish prepping dinner and _dear god he wasn’t even dressed yet_. _Ok, Eliot, don’t panic._

Eliot had been in New York for just over a year now and was finally starting to feel like he belonged. He no longer got lost on the subway, he knew where the best restaurants were (that he could afford) and which ones to avoid, and he had begun to carry himself in that regal _Eliot Waugh_ way he had been perfecting for so long, without even thinking about it most of the time.

So when a random hookup named “Chad” (of all things) called him back the next day asking for a repeat performance of the night before, Eliot got a little nervous. To make matters worse, they had been texting off and on throughout the day and somehow Eliot had agreed to a striptease, which wasn’t _necessarily_ a problem in itself except…Eliot had never given anyone a striptease before.

Now granted, Eliot’s sexual escapades had become much more frequent and more daring since he moved to New York, but he was still a work in progress. He often mused that becoming Eliot Waugh was the greatest creative endeavor of his life, and it was one that required steady effort and progress. So naturally, he was more than willing to build upon his sexual repertoire by any and all means possible. That didn’t necessarily make it any less nerve-wracking.

So Eliot did what Eliot does and asked himself, “What would Eliot Waugh do?” His answer: Eliot Waugh would get his shit in order. That would mean planning. Decadence. Drama. Everything under control and organized down to the last tiny detail. Dinner, wine, foreplay…what could possibly go wrong?

Step one: Dinner prep. Eliot set the tagliatelle and pignoli on the counter and began chopping pancetta. He halved the cherry tomatoes and gave the basil a quick chiffonade. As he turned to set the Verdicchio in the fridge his breath was momentarily taken away by a sharp pain in his stomach. He sucked in a sharp gasp and closed his eyes to keep his head from spinning. A few seconds and the moment was over. _Jesus_ , he thought, _if I end up having stomach problems tonight of all nights I’m going to punch someone._ A few moments of shallow breaths to recover and he was off to his room to get dressed: Step 2.

Eliot had planned out tonight’s ensemble meticulously. He wanted something that was definitely slutty and alluring – something that screamed “subby yet irresistible”. Eliot actually considered himself a switch, though of late he was rather relishing his submissive side. To be honest, he hadn’t _entirely_ gotten completely comfortable in his Dom role with anyone he’d been with, though he was _definitely_ growing into it. For Chad, though, “subby yet irresistible” nailed it.

He gave himself a once-over in the mirror after he had gotten his outfit on: Strappy heels, black fishnet thigh highs that were held up by a simple black garter belt over a black lace jock strap. He pulled it together with a crop top that said “Daddy’s Little Slut” on it, with a leather collar for a finishing touch. And the one thing that couldn’t be seen immediately – a lovely little butt plug with a ruby red jewel on the end of it. Satisfied, he covered himself up with a silky black robe he had found at a little consignment shop around the corner, and _yeah, he could definitely get used to these_.

He looked over his reflection critically for a moment before reaching for his phone to make sure he hadn’t missed any updates. He felt a dull ache in his stomach still, and angrily gave his body a good talking to. _Now listen up, you little shit, we will have no problems tonight, is that understood?_ He nodded resolutely to himself just as a loud knock sounded on the front door. Eliot jumped and a small wave of magic crackled through the air as one of the paintings on the wall was knocked crooked by a short little burst of unexpected telekinesis. It happened occasionally when Eliot was startled by something – or scared, or surprised. Eliot had gotten better at controlling it but he was nowhere near perfect. Daily meditation had helped him to manage some kind of control over his impulses and involuntary reactions but…as in most areas, Eliot was a work in progress.

 _Ok, reign it in, Eliot._ He took three deep breaths, adjusted his robe to barely cover himself in all the right spots, and glided toward the door.

With a final exhale, he swung the door open and leaned seductively against the door frame. A small smirk graced his lips as he watched the reaction of the man before him. Chad, who looked very much like a “Chad”, was a tall, muscular man with short-ish blond hair and a _lot_ of teeth. Like truly, this man’s smile made Eliot melt a little. Aside from that, Eliot wasn’t _terribly_ impressed with him, but he never overlooked an opportunity for improvement and experience so, here he was.

Chad bit the side of his lip as he looked Eliot over with a predatory smirk. “Nice,” he smiled as Eliot stepped aside to invite him in with a grand arm gesture. He closed the door behind him and strutted slowly over to where Chad had stopped a few feet away. Putting on his best _I-really-don’t-give-a-shit-that-you’re-here-but-I’ll-fuck-you-anyway_ attitude, he stopped inches from Chad’s face and drawled, “You’re just in time for the show.” He batted his long eyelashes flirtatiously then turned and headed down the hallway to his room, glancing carelessly over his shoulder to make sure that Chad followed. He did – at a safe enough distance to check out Eliot’s ass shimmying under the robe as he walked. Once inside Eliot’s room, Eliot guided Chad over to sit on the edge of the bed, then grabbed his phone to start the playlist he had selected for this evening’s performance. A slow, sultry beat began playing through the speakers as Eliot turned around and looked hungrily at his audience.

 _Show time_.

Eliot began to move and sway his hips to the beat as he let his hands run down over his chest, down his hips, over the tops of his thighs and back up. His fingertips grazed over his ass as he turned and wiggled his way around to grab the tie holding his robe shut. He glanced over his shoulder at the man sitting on his bed as he opened his robe and let it fall smoothly to the floor. Chad’s eyes went wide as he took in the sight of Eliot’s ass in that lacey black jock strap, stockings grazing the backs of his upper thighs, revealing just an inch or two of bitable flesh below his cheek. The garter belt dug into his skin slightly, subtly straining as Eliot moved, bent over, rolled his hips and…yeah, Eliot was _nailing_ this.

Eliot turned and sauntered toward his victim, allowing him to reach up and run his hands along Eliot’s abs beneath that _absolutely wicked_ crop top before pulling away and backing up to resume his tease. He danced for a moment, smoothing his hands up and down his own body, sliding up the inside of his thighs, running over the exceptionally large bulge that was barely contained by the patch of lace in front of it, snapping the waistband of his garter belt and giving Chad a swift wink as he slapped his ass just a little. Chad began wiggling on the bed in anticipation. Eliot’s confidence soared through the roof. Everything was going _so damn well_.

Until…

With a jolt, Eliot froze as his hands shot over to the right side of his abdomen. He groaned in pain as everything started to spin around him. Unable to withstand it, he dropped to his knees and doubled over, tears flooding his eyes as the pain shot through him like fire. He tipped forward, braced his arm on the ground, and cried out a weak, “ _fuck_ ,” just as everything went black.

* * *

Eliot’s eyes fluttered as he awoke to the sounds of voices all around him. He slowly tried to blink his eyes open and winced at the brightness that flooded them. Voices were jumbled together and Eliot tried to make out some of the words. _Hey_ and _sir_ and _he’s coming back_ …after a few moments he managed to keep his eyes open and take in the scene unfolding in his bedroom. A man was talking to Chad, who was sitting on the bed. Apparently an EMT. Another pair were talking to each other near the door, one holding a clipboard. A woman was kneeling next to him and apparently speaking to him.

“Sir,” she said, “sir, can you hear me. I need you to talk to me, hun.”

Eliot nodded.

“Can you talk?” she asked.

Eliot swallowed and croaked out a “y-yes.” He could hear the man talking to Chad. It seemed they had just arrived and he was trying to get some information.

“What’s his name?” the man asked.

Chad’s voice was shaky, like he had been crying. “E-Eliot,” he replied.

“Last name?” the man inquired.

“Uh…uhmmm…” Chad stammered.

Eliot took a breath and rolled his eyes. _Couldn’t even be bothered to remember my last name, Chad?_ “It’s Waugh,” Eliot answered, taking them by surprise. Chad looked down at the floor.

The women resumed speaking to him, “Can you tell me where you are?...When is your birthday?...What happened?...” Eliot answered them all until the pain returned, not nearly as intense but every bit as present.

“ _Oh fuck_ ,” he yelped as he grabbed his side. A few of the EMTs startled when something on his dresser fell over, but they brushed it off as coincidence. Eliot tried to stand up but wobbled right back down to the floor. His head started spinning again and the EMT next to him helped him to lie down. Before he knew it, he was strapped to a stretcher and being rolled into the back of an ambulance. He heard one of the EMTs ask Chad if he wanted to go with him. Eliot glanced over at Chad, who was still looking down at the ground. “Go home, Chad,” he said, then let his eyes flutter shut as the doors closed.

* * *

When they wheeled him into the emergency room, Eliot expected to be taken immediately into a room, and was surprised to find himself parked on the stretcher out in the hallway while an entire team of healthcare professionals completed paperwork. Fortunately they had draped a blanket over him so he didn’t have to be freezing and exposed in his stripper attire. Still, the blanket only came up to his chest and he did get some confused, judgy looks at his “Daddy’s Little Slut” shirt. Swallowing down his initial embarrassment, he just flashed them a flirty smile and gave a slight wink to a particularly scowl-y older woman who gasped and tried to use her arm to shield the eyes of the tween walking next to her – who peeked out and gave him a red-faced chuckle.

Finally, they wheeled Eliot into a room, barely saving him from a quickly-approaching blonde mother who looked like she had an _agenda_. After a couple of nurses finished taking his vitals and hooking him up to a couple of monitors and an IV drip, he was finally given some pain killers. The sharp pains in his stomach reminding him why he was there in the first place began to turn into dull aches and his brain and body started to relax. Eliot wasn’t sure how much time had passed while nurses and doctors flitted in and out, checking monitor readings and adjusting equipment. Brain fog had settled in thanks to a steady drip of narcotics and Eliot was feeling light and content. He knew they had asked some questions but the details were fuzzy. At one point, they put him in a wheelchair to go have some x-rays taken, but it was all kind of a blur at that point. They may have overestimated Eliot’s tolerance for pain killers…

The IV fluids eventually began to have their intended effect, and Eliot needed to pee. This was something he hadn’t necessarily prepared for. While he was obviously confident in his body and how he looked, he didn’t really relish the idea of having to walk through a crowded emergency room wearing lacey lingerie. He tried to ignore it as long as possible, but eventually, he pushed the call button. A nurse came in and unhooked his IV, gave him a quick once-over, tried unsuccessfully to hide a smirk, then rushed out. Eliot thought he saw a slight blush on her cheek as she rounded the corner. He took a deep breath, flung the bleach-stiff blanket off of him, and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. _Here’s goes nothin’_ , he thought. His nerves fired into his stomach and made it flip flop ominously. Why was this so difficult? He had overcome his parents and their hate. He had overcome that shitty small town and moved to New York. He had survived, made it here on his own, reinvented himself as Eliot Waugh, the most dashing, confident, sexy motherfucker in New York. Now all he needed to accomplish was a confident, sexy walk of shame to the bathroom before he peed on himself. Simple…right?

_Ok, El. Time to be Eliot Waugh. Own this. You are the envy of everyone in this building. You are a literal sex god. Fucking act like it._

He took a few steps out of the door and promptly stumbled over the threshold of his room. He wobbled momentarily like a baby deer, unsteady on heels he had not anticipated wearing on a slick hospital floor. He froze momentarily to get his bearings, pulled himself up to his full height (which was nearly 6’7” in those heels), and carefully made slow, deliberate strides through the hallway, sinking into his hips on each wobbly step.

He could almost feel the air around him still as he walked through the hallway. Conversations halted and eyes darted…just, _everywhere_. The crop top, the garter belt, his ass in that thong, the heels – most glances quickly darted away immediately, but some lingered over slow smiles, bitten lips, and downright open-mouthed drooling. He heard someone gasp, while another muttered “disgusting”. Someone wolf-whistled. It seemed he was either the most wanted or most hated man in the entire building, but either way, he was kind of drinking it in. His head lifted just a little higher as giggles faded into gasps. He may have thrown a fleeting, flirty look behind at a particularly interested face now and then.

His embarrassment gradually faded into confidence as he approached the bathroom door just ahead. He had made it, and a few minutes of hiding to gather his strength for the walk back was never more desperately needed. Reaching his destination, he stretched forward to grab the door knob to find it locked. _Well. Plot twist_. He had kind of counted on making his smooth escape into the bathroom to complete his performance, but ok, on to plan B.

“It’s occupied,” came a raspy voice behind him. He spun around to find the tiniest little woman staring up at him with surprising authority. She had long, straight, brown hair and dark eyes that looked – unusually _caring_ and mismatched to the force of her voice. Her arms were crossed in front of her. She looked tired, like she had been up for a few days. Eliot softened a bit as he regarded this women before him who looked like she had been through more than she ought for her – _18-ish?_ – years.

“Ah,” he said. “I’ll, uh…just wait then.” She gave him a tight smile as he shifted here and there in the awkward silence that seemed a lot longer than it was.

A soft click broke the silence as the door behind him eased open. Eliot stepped to the side with a sharp inhale as he regarded the small man that came slinking shyly out of the bathroom. His face was mostly obscured by a curtain of hair that kept flopping back down over his face whenever he brushed it away. His eyes were hollow and sunken, dark and solemn. He murmured the faintest, “’scuse me,” as he slipped past Eliot and reached a hand out to the woman, as if she was the next platform on a dangerous trek over a raging river, clinging to her like a life raft. Eliot watched as she wrapped her arm around him and guided him back to his room just a few steps away. He could see that the man’s wrists were bandaged, and he had to stop himself from reaching out for him protectively as he realized why the young man was there. He was thin as a rail, so small and, as inappropriate as the thought probably was in this situation, _cute_. He visibly shook off the feeling of being pulled like a magnet to the boy as he remembered he was standing in the hallway of the ER dressed in lace lingerie, waiting for the bathroom which was now vacant.

He finished up and took one steeling breath before opening the door and starting the trip back to his room. His eyes flicked over to the boy, now lying in the bed while his friend (Girlfriend? Maybe?) sat next to him. A nurse was positioned at the door to his room, seated on a stool in front of a mobile computer station. A sitter. When patients came in who were in danger of hurting themselves, a sitter was positioned at the door to keep them under strict supervision. There was no doubt now why the boy was in the emergency room, and Eliot’s heart ached for this man whom he had never met. The boy’s eyes darted over to him, scanned his body quickly, then jerked his head away with a slight blush to the tops of his cheeks. The woman beside him glanced up at Eliot, then began to mumble something to the boy, which made the _slightest_ of smiles grace his drawn face. Eliot bit his lip at the appearance of sharp parentheses dimples. An unexpected crackle of magic caught Eliot’s attention just before a loud crash sounded a few feet away. He looked over to see that a phlebotomist’s cart had nearly overturned itself, and had only been stopped by falling onto an empty stretcher. _Fuck._ Eliot knew that was his doing. He closed his eyes and took two shaky breaths, then opened them to see the cute boy staring up at him through dark lashes from the edge of his bed. The boy quickly averted his gaze when he saw Eliot staring back at him. _Jesus, El, get a hold of yourself._ The boy was really just _adorable_ , but…realizing that his attire would do nothing to hide his thoughts at the moment, Eliot forced himself to look away and stroll back to his room.

Back in the safety of his room after another successfully aloof stroll half-naked through the emergency room, Eliot felt like he had added another notch to his hypothetical _becoming-Eliot-Waugh_ bedpost. He hadn’t been in the room more than a few minutes when a knock on the door announced the arrival of New York’s most attractive doctor, if Eliot had a vote. He seemed young for a doctor, dark blond hair that was slightly shaggy, but in a purposeful way, and an absolutely _gorgeous_ smile that made Eliot’s heart jump. Eliot made a mental note to ask him about his schedule and be sure to get sick or injured at the right time.

“Mr. Waugh? Hi, I’m Dr. Jackson.” He held out his hand and Eliot took it slowly, resisting the urge to bring it up to his lips like the chivalrous bastard he longed to be. He did, however, flash him a sexy smile as he looked up at him through fluttery lashes, just for good measure. The doctor stifled a gasp and cleared his throat, the corners of his mouth twitching up slightly. “Uhm…I’ll be performing your operation today. Looks like we’re removing that appendix, yes?” Eliot nodded, still relatively dumbfounded. “Ok, well let me just check you out – um, check out, your…wh-see what we’re working with here and, um…” was the doctor getting flustered? Oh yes, that was just the boost of confidence Eliot needed.

“Sure,” said Eliot, lifting his head up as he drew the blanket back. The doctor’s eyes lingered on Eliot’s a moment too long before darting down to his body. Eliot shifted slightly, if only to bring attention to all the moveable parts. The doctor put his hands on Eliot’s stomach, pressing down until he found the spot that made Eliot hiss in pain when he let up. “Yes, there it is,” he said, shifting uncomfortably. “You can, um, cover back up now, if you want,” he said, avoiding eye contact.

“You sure you don’t need another look?” Eliot bounced back in the most sultry-but-not-creepy tone he could manage. The doctor looked up at Eliot and flashed him a knowing grin.

“I, um, also took a look at your x-rays,” he said, quickly changing the subject.

“Oh? Anything interesting?” Eliot flirted.

The doctor raised his eyebrows and turned around to scribble something down on a piece of paper. He folded it up and tucked it inside a plastic bag. “This bag is for your clothes. I’ll be seeing you up in surgery once they get you prepped,” he said. He handed him a gown and some socks, along with the bag. “And, um, about that x-ray,” he said, his voice low and thick as he leaned close to Eliot’s ear, “you, um…might want to remove the butt plug when you get undressed.” Eliot’s eyes grew huge as he suddenly remembered he had never taken out the butt plug before all this happened. He cringed as he wondered how much laughter had filled the radiology room after he had been wheeled back to his bed.

The doctor winked as he stood up and glided out the door, glancing back seductively as he disappeared through the door. Eliot’s heart (and cock) throbbed as he reached down and grabbed the piece of paper in the plastic bag. He unfolded it and grinned like a dam fool as he read, “Spencer Jackson, 555-2849.”

The rest of the night blurred by in a narcotic haze. They eventually wheeled him into a room where they prepped him for surgery. _Well, Eliot_ , he mused, _you may have blown it with Chad – no big loss – but you will definitely be fucking that doctor, so overall, a pretty successful day._

As they placed a mask over his nose and mouth, his mind wandered to fantasies of _Spencer_ in various compromising positions, vaguely accompanied by cries of _Oh, yes doctor_. Sinking deeper into his subconscious, his eyes closed as visions of that little sad boy he had run into downstairs floated across his mind, with his floppy hair and deep eyes. Eliot dreamed of holding him, keeping him safe, feeling his soft hair and warm body melt against him. _Stop dreaming, Eliot…things like that don’t really happen, not to you…_ Maybe someday they would somehow meet again, just like magic…

 _No. Don’t be ridiculous._ Eliot pushed the thought out of his mind as the anesthesia took over. He drifted off to sleep as visions of smol, floppy-haired, dimpled boys floated through his brain…

* * *

* * *

Eliot and Charlton walked back through the door of the cottage. Neither said a word to each other as the door clicked behind them. Charlton watched cautiously as Eliot walked over to the chalkboard and crossed off “waiting for an appendectomy” and “first strip-tease (given)”.

“Eliot,” Charlton began quietly, “Are you ok?”

Eliot stared at the floor. “I met him, Charlton. Q. I…we met. Years before he ever…before I ever…”

Charlton thought he saw moisture glistening on Eliot’s bottom lashes. He slowly walked over to stand behind Eliot. Eliot blinked back the beginnings of tears as he shook his head and squeezed the piece of chalk tightly.

“I’ve got to get out to him…to _them_ , to our friends,” Eliot said determinedly. “We need to keep trying…” He tilted his chin up and focused his attention on the long list in front of him.

“Which leads us to our next adventure: Sleeping with other people’s boyfriends – _Spencer_.”

**Author's Note:**

> There are references to a suicide attempt by Quentin, and most of the story does take place in an emergency room, with some physical details about the aftermath of the attempt.


End file.
